


Day Twelve

by agent85



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Diabetics Beware, Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, That's How Fluffy This Is, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent85/pseuds/agent85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse into Jemma and Fitz's twelfth day as a couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Twelve

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!

She likes this feeling, she decides. It's just the sensation of her hand in his, of his warmth combining with hers as they walk under the moonlight. It's a simple kind of ecstasy, which is new and strange. It's a complex system of sensory receptors, neurons, nervous tissue, and brain matter that's letting her feel the delightful callouses on his skin. It's the way she knows him so completely, though, that sends the sparks through her fingers. Years of standing beside him have given meaning to the shy way he smiles at her as he leads her around a corner, and it's the meaning that makes her heart jump. It's who he is, and what he does, and how much that means to her.

And it's not just the feeling of his skin, or the way their fingers intertwine. It's that any passerby will look at their hands and know that he is hers.

She can't help but look at him sometimes. Or, well, all the time. She loves to admire the shape of his jaw and the deepness in his eyes. She has to check, just one more time, to make sure that this is real, that it's actually happening, because it's been so long in the making, but it also happened so suddenly. 

It's more than that, too. It's a thousand things, the highs and the lows, the twists and turns, and the way it's all ended up that has put Jemma Simmons in this state of perfect euphoria.

It's a light clinking sound that brings her back to the present.

"Fitz?"

"Hmmm?"

He stops to look at her while their hands swing between them.

"Did you drop something?"

It sounded like metal hitting the pavement, and she thinks that perhaps some loose change fell out of his pocket. She watches as Fitz pats down his suit coat with a puzzled expression. She almost checks her own pockets before remembering that this dress doesn't have any.

"FItz! It's not my key, is it? I gave it to you."

"Your key's right here," he assures her as he points to his breast pocket, but the worry on his face is growing.

"What is it?"

"N-nothing."

His expression changes to terror, and he freezes.

"Fitz?"

"Just . . ." He covers his face with his hands. "It's, um, it's . . . it doesn't matter what it is."

Jemma furrows her brow. "Oh-okay."

The next thing she knows he's on his hands and knees, and she's not sure if she should be concerned, or admire the view.

She does both, just to be safe.

Fitz mutters curses under his breath, though it's hard for her to pick out specific words, and she doesn't really feel the need to. A man in a business suit strolls past them, eyeing Fitz and giving Jemma a look. She's unable to hold back a smile as her heart floods with both pride and embarrassment.

"Eureka!" 

She turns when she hears his sudden proclamation, but she doesn't see what he's holding before he slips it back into his pocket. She laughs anyway.

"What was it?"

He looks up at her with a deer-in-headlights expression.

"Um, well, it was a, it was a . . . what was it? It was a . . ." He snaps his fingers, searching for the word.

"Quarter?"

"Yes! A quarter. I dropped . . . a quarter."

She eyes him curiously.

"You put up quite a fuss for a quarter."

"Well," Fitz starts to explain, drumming his fingers along his thigh. "It was . . . I've been collecting them."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they all have different, uh, designs on the back. They're all the American parks, or something." 

"Oh." 

She's about to say something else, but he interrupts.

"How long have we been dating, Jemma?"

She feels herself blush, and she answers even though he's the mathematician. 

"Twelve days."

She waits for him to say something, but the next thing she knows, his lips are on hers, and she's smiling against them.

"Happy," he says between kisses, "happy . . . twelfth day . . . anniversary . . . Jemma."

Jemma forgets to answer back.

***

When he finally gets back to his room, Fitz flops on his bed and lets out a sigh.

He can't believe how close he got to blowing it.

He curses himself as he empties his pockets, hoping it hasn't fallen out again.

No, he still has it. He pulls it out and holds it between his thumb and forefinger, trying to determine if Jemma's engagement ring was damaged at all when it fell. After a minute, he decides that he can check it over later, under a microscope. He'll just have to wait until Jemma takes a bathroom break.

He smiles as he thinks of her (even though he's always thinking of her), remembering the evening they just shared, reveling in the fact that she calls him her boyfriend now, even after everything.

Actually, he thinks, he should keep the ring more secure. Perhaps he could get one of those stealth pouches the specialists use. He could wear it on his calf—underneath his trousers, obviously—and then if the right moment ever came, he could simply drop to one knee and retrieve it.

Yes, it's a fine idea. He'll have to practice, of course, so he doesn't fall over and look like an idiot. He should probably think of some words to say, too. Proposals definitely require words.

He feels panic run through him, and he has to loosen his tie as he reminds himself that he has plenty of time. Plenty of time. They've only been dating for twelve days, after all. He'll have to wait at least a few weeks, or she'll think he's a lunatic. And maybe he is, since he hand-crafted a beautiful, functional, one-of-a-kind engagement ring within the first forty-eight hours of his first romantic relationship.

But, of course, it's Jemma. 

He sits up and takes off his jacket, adrenaline rushing through him as he remembers just how close Jemma was to finding out. As much as he wants to have her forever, that was not the moment for her to become aware of the fact. He'll have to wait for her to be ready, and the second she is,  _that_  will be the moment.

Suddenly, he remembers something else, and he groans as he facepalms.

Now he has to start collecting quarters.


End file.
